Getting to Know You

A Date and a New Friend

After a quite interesting and kind of complicated story of how Steve got ready for the date, he set off, to a place called The Groove located in downtown DC, a nice small American-themed restaurant with patriotic music playing softly from the speakers, enlighting the patriotic mood of the whole premises, as if the red,white and blue walls and American flag decoration all over place wasn't enough.

In a normal day, Steve would probably laugh at the irony. Today? Not a chance.

"Funny." Was the first thing he uttered once they sat down on a table for two next to a window showing the view of the streets.

She smiled gleefully. "So, what do you think? You like it?"

He gave her a tiny nod, fumbling with a button on his shirt to keep himself busy. "Yes, yes. Quite the irony."

He tried hard. Really, really hard to try to enjoy himself, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. The burning feeling that started in his stomach spread over his whole body and it didn't just burn him; the feeling was gnawing at him, hurting his senses, attacking his mind, not allowing him to focus. At least I'm not rushing back to get back to Natasha's bed, he thought. But even the furthest thought from Natasha he could think of led straight back to her; her face, her body, her green eyes, her voice, her crimson hair, everything. Anything and everything.

Halfway through their meal, Sharon finally stopped talking about her life and asked, "What is that on your neck? It looks painful."

Steve rubbed on the dark blotch. The bruise. The hickey. "Oh that. I was playing around with a blowback rifle not long ago. One bullet missed my armor and hit me on the neck." There. Good white lie.Is it a white lie?

She bought it immidiately."Horrible. So, what have you been up to?"

He didn't answer. He was playing with his spaghetti. Noodles. Dawn. Conversation with Natasha.

"Steve?"

He quickly raised his head, met her searching blue eyes. Eyes. Green. Natasha's eyes are green.

"Sorry, I−" He scoffed. "Uh, yeah. I've been busy−" sleeping with Natasha night and day... "recovering from the mission."

"How do you recover,exactly?"

Have sex with Natasha.... "Natasha. She−helps me."

"Good for you. It's good to have a friend to help you around."

"Oh yeah, she's been very helpful." Steve said that with a smile that dissappeared as fast as it appeared. He regretted saying that. Then again, he didn't.

"You know, at SHIELD, I never really got the chance to talk to her much. We did talk, occassionally. But she's usually busy. She's very good at what she does, isn't she?"

Steve almost choked on his drink. He cleared his throat, images of Natasha popping into his mind like a thunderstorm.

"Oh God, are you okay?" She rose from her seat with a napkin to wipe his mouth. He was caught surprised by her action but he let her. Staring at her blankly, she returned him with a sweet smile.

"Thank you." He took a mouthful of spaghetti in hope to retrieve his sanity. When she returned to her seat, he knew that she was watching him, silently judging him.

"I know I shouldn't be judging people but, you look pretty preoccupied tonight."

Of course I do. "Oh yeah?" He kept shoving spaghetti in his mouth.